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[FLAT LOOK AND TUGGING ON YOUR HAND YOUNG SIR. HE'S NOT MOVING UNTIL YOU SIT BACK DOWN.]

[...

In a defeated sort of motion he falls back lightly to sit down, legs pressed close together at the knees for lack of pants.]

Thank you.

[A touch of exasperation to how he says it. Jean takes off what little of his shirt remains, ripping it into thin strips. He takes Armin's injured hand gently in his own.]

I wish we had something to dress it with.

[An idle wish. With precision and care, he sets to wrapping his hand instead, gaze darting up to Armin on occasion.] We don't have to rush here. We can afford the time to slow down.

You said it yourself that it's anyone's guess when we'll get to water. If you're already losing enough blood to feel dizzy...

[He trails off, but it's pretty clear what his concerns are. Even still, he watches Jean wrap his hand, surprised by how careful he's being.]

I'm fine. I'm able to do this well enough.

[Sort of. He needs to keep one hand braced on the ground to steady the world around him, but Armin won't notice. Maybe he'd notice the frequent breaks to wipe his forehead clear of sweat or how his lung suddenly didn't seem large enough to hold his breath. Or maybe he wouldn't–either way, it didn't matter now that the bandaging was almost finished. All he needed to do was tie it.

He lifts his other hand and the world spins out of control, the air giving under him before the sand cushions him and he blacks out.]

Jean--!!

[Immediately Armin is shifting. He notices the signs moments before it happens. The way his eyes are, or the movements of his hands being off... He steps off from his seat and leans forward and down to catch Jean before he falls much further.

---

It's maybe twenty minutes later, and Armin has successfully dragged Jean to a well. He was lucky there wasn't any more monsters along the way. At least not now... The major problem now was the sand and the heat. At least there was water. Plenty of it, by the looks of things here, and Armin had settled down enough to lean Jean against the wall as comfortably as he could and set to cleaning out the sand from his wounds and wrapping them.

By the time Jean wakes up, he'll be without any pants or shirt, likely, having them (or what was remaining of them, in the shirt's case) folded off to the side with Armin kneeling beside him. A tear of Armin's own shirt was in the boy's hands, soaked with water as he carefully worked at cleaning one of the wounds on Jean's thigh with a concerned face.]

[The movement and the heat wakes him, head lolling tiredly in an attempt to see what's happening. Eventually, he lands on Armin, frowning at where he's touching and how... close it is. And how he doesn't really seem to mind.

It's probably just the dizziness.

Which is hitting him really hard now. With a groan, he leans his head back against the wall, wincing while his wound stings and the world resettles into vision.] Where are we?

[Feeling Jean stir causes a heavy tension to lift from Armin. He'd been dreading the thought of more monsters appearing while Jean was unconscious. Being unable to protect him... That they might not get out of here with Jean being okay. But him waking up shook some hope into him, and he pauses from his cleaning the cuts to bring a free hand to steady Jean.]

You're awake! [It's relief and something else, and eventually Armin lets his hand slip away from Jean's shoulder to stop steadying him. He seems awake enough to not fall over.] I tried to get as far away from the pyramids as I could. We're at a well right now. You had sand in your wounds, so I've been cleaning them out while you've rested.

[Looking back down at Jean's leg, he keeps his eyes focused on that cut as he wipes gently at it again.] ...How are you feeling?

[He shifts, looking down at Armin again. He's careful to lean his head against his shoulder, staving off the dizziness for the moment.]

Like my body's on fire.

[Whether its' the stinging, the sun, or the general lack of blood, he doesn't know. All he knows is that his sweating and lightheadedness hasn't gone away.]

Why am I naked?

[That's really forward of you, Armin.]

You were covered in sand.

[Armin explains it simply enough, eyes turning their attention to the pile of supplies he'd arranged next to them. He'll take more cloth that seems to have been ripped from his own shirt-- almost out of real bandages now, so he's trying to save it for worse wounds-- and wrap what he's dealing with now on Jean's leg.]

I wanted to make sure your wounds could heal properly without any risk of infection.

We should do the same for you.

[His voice is groggy as he speaks. Another bout of dizziness settles over him. He closes his eyes in an attempt to stop it, clutching his head desperately.]

Is there enough water for a drink?

Don't worry-- I've dealt with the worst of mine, and I wasn't as bad as you were.

[He shifts, placing a hand on Jean's shoulder to urge him to stay as he stands up himself.]

I'll get you some, so just wait here. [He has to step over and set up the empty bucket again, lowering it into the well and struggling a bit as he pulls it up full. But he finally does manage to get it up, leaning over and taking it out, carefully bringing it over to Jean.

It's not without a few light spills, but there's enough water where it doesn't matter so much. Setting the bucket down beside them, he kneels by Jean and assures his hands are clean before dipping them in the fresh water and holding them up to Jean's lips.]

Here.

[He drinks greedily and sloppily, the water splashing down his chin and chest more than ending up in his mouth. It empties in no time and he waits for Armin to refill, licking what remains off his lips. The lightheadedness doesn't fade. If anything, it gets worse–forces him to watch Armin with a doofy smile.]

It tastes good.

It... does?

[That's odd. Why is he looking even more out of it? It confuses and worries Armin, and he lowers his hands to the water so he can take a small sip himself. But the water tastes fine. Normal. It didn't make him feel any different as immediately as Jean seemed to, and so he dips his hands back in for another full palm to let Jean drink.

He does this a couple more times, growing increasingly worried when Jean doesn't seem to be stabilizing in mood. It doesn't make sense, and a particular swift attempt to turn back to the bucket instead leaves him losing balance and falling sideways. He tries to catch himself, palm meeting the sand on the other side of Jean, but he's essentially leaning in Jean's lap at this point, cheeks colored just slightly as he worriedly looks up to Jean.]

Sorry.

No need to be sorry.

[Another doofy smile and a pat on the head that slides down and plays with the ends of his hair. His other hand loosely wraps around Armin's waist, balancing him. Making sure he doesn't fall over.]

Get me some more water.

[The motions catch him off guard, somehow, and his chest tightens as he feels Jean's fingers through his hair. The hand around his waist does help him feel more stable, but suddenly he's positioned so directly over Jean's legs it's awkward.

No one's ever given him this sort of attention before, and he's uncertain of how to handle it. On top of that, it's startling enough to be intimidating and worrying, but it's not bad either. He freezes in place with his eyes locked on his friend before they slide over to the bucket.]

Ah-- [Right. Water. Maybe he should just focus on that? Whatever was going on with Jean, he did need water. He slides the bucket closer before dipping his hands in for another handful, awkwardly attempting to hold up his hands for Jean to drink from at this new angle.]

[Greedily, he drinks again, lifting Armin's hand to his mouth and drinking them dry, not registering when the water's gone. His lips press down into the palms of his hands before he looks up, smiling. But Armin is so far up it's hard to tell if he can see his smile. Jean drags him down, gently and by the back of the head. And then the distance between their faces is so close that he can feel Armin's breath and he wonders idly, what happens when two people breathe into each other and decides to test that out too. The gap between their mouths close–Jean presses his lips against Armin's.]

[It's strange enough trying to give Jean enough water from his hands. The bucket is too large for him to lift properly and there aren't any canteens or bowls around to use to hold it in place. So he'd done his best to work with what he had, ignoring the awkwardness of it all. But gradually, instead of growing less awkward, it was becoming moreso, and Armin couldn't quite pinpoint why.

This time in particular has Jean's lips at his hands for a few seconds too long, and he's just about processing it with an embarrassed twinge of realization. But then that hand at the back of his head is bringing him down more, and he's dropping his hands to either side of Jean to keep himself propped up. Blinking at Jean's eyes, confusion heavier than before washes over him, and he quietly starts to speak up.]

Jean? [But that seems to go unheard. Soon enough, their lips are meeting and an unusual hot feeling spreads from his face down the rest of his body. He's frozen at first, mind racing so fast he can't make sense of his thoughts at all, and before he even realizes it, he's hesitantly leaning into it with a sort of shy kiss back.]

[The reciprocation earns a pleased noise from Jean, the sound muffled by the kiss deepening. The arm around his waist pulls him closer while the other tangles itself in Armin's hair, combing through it as he presses further into the kiss, seeking out small noises of confirmation. Ones that can forgive the way their teeth occasionally meet and how their noses bump.

He's new at this but he doesn't care. For once, the blush on his cheeks is light and–at this point–probably just a sunburn. Delirium boosts confidence and now Jean is brimming with it.

When he finally pulls away, Armin is perched neatly in his lap with one of his hands pressing into the small of his back. The doofy smile hasn't faded.]

Thanks.

I--

[He stammers once the thank you comes and he's met with the realization that he's sitting without pants in Jean's (who is without pants AND a shirt) lap. That they'd just kissed. For a considerable amount of time, actually, and he'd been so tempted to just stop thinking and go with it. It was kind of terrifying but also terribly exciting...

And now he wasn't sure how to handle it. What to think of it. His face was pinker than he was ever used to having to deal with (terror was one thing, anger was another, but this--), and Jean was still just smiling at him like that.]

I didn't-- [Mean for that to happen at all. That's true enough, but he stops himself in the realization that that's not quite right to say, and it may cause more issues.

He tries to take a calmer breath in and out, eyes resting hesitantly just below Jean's chin and keeping them firmly there to avoid any eye contact.]

I'm sorry. [He finally says that in a breathy sort of exhale, one of his hands raising to press the back to Jean's forehead and test his temperature.] You must have a fever. Or...

[...]

We should get out of this place.

[That seems to jerk Jean back. The smile evaporates within an instant and his hand moves from Armin's back to his wrist, seizing it tightly.]

Not before you clean your injuries.

[Look, he'll even try and get the water, fingers reaching for the bucket without moving Armin out of his lap. It doesn't really work; Jean loses balance and tips onto his side, the bucket splashing onto him and soaking his hair. He sighs, relieved.]

We should go where there's more water.

[It feels so nice.]

Jean!

[Shoving the bucket out of the way, Armin moves himself so he can grab Jean and pull him closer, lifting him up off of the ground. This isn't good. And he was just sitting here messing around like that...]

Hang in there, Jean. [It's a voice that's both quiet and determined as he sets out on working on solving this. His wounds were fine.]

[It takes a long while for someone of Armin's strength to drag Jean all the way out, but he manages. Not without some help at the entrance, of course. Now here they were some time later (hours? days?) and Jean still hasn't woken up. The nurse/healer he'd asked for help seemed to say he was healthy, which was good news, but it wasn't enough to rid Armin of the guilt from all of this.

He's struggling with himself over all of this, honestly, and there's so many complicated thoughts going through his mind. Armin had stayed here waiting for him to recover completely so he'd be able to speak to him, but no such luck yet. At least he'd found some temporary clothes to work with-- a simple dress shirt that was a little too big and some slacks.

He'd spent a lot of time sitting in a chair he'd pulled up next to the bed Jean was resting in. Looking down at his own hands, thinking, remembering, looking back to Jean... People would visit now and again but right now it was a quiet time.

Crossing his arms over a small bit of sheets on the bed, he leaned forward in his chair and let his head lay down on top of them so he could watch Jean. ...At least, he did for a few minutes, before his eyelids got heavy as well and he drifted off to sleep waiting.]

[It's a day later that Jean wakes up. Eyelids heavier than he remembers take a long while to open and for a moment, he thinks that someone is holding him there–clamping his eyes shut. He panics, bolts upright and bursting his eyes open in retaliation only to find that everything's fine. Mid-afternoon sunlight sends dust motes through the window, curtains ruffle quietly in a soft breeze, and Armin sits nearby, attentive.

Jean doesn't expect the latter. The surprise makes him stare, throat caught for a quick moment before he swallows it hesitantly and...

Tries to speak but nothing comes out. There's a brief pause where he reteaches himself words, pronunciation, and then:]

Where am I?

[Voice is soft–concerned yet curious. The thing that confuses him most is why Armin is still at his side.] What are you doing here?

[The feeling of Jean jolting up brings Armin to sit upright from his position as well. Immediately he's watching Jean for reactions, shoulders relaxing when the questions come out normal and there's no goofy smile to accompany it.

Thank god.]

We're in one of the empty rooms in the dormitories. [One of his hands instinctively moves forward to rest on the sheets over Jean's lower leg to comfort him.] I brought you as far as I could, and there were some others at the entrance to the cavern that were able to help. ...You've been resting here for a while-- about a day-- so when you didn't wake up...

[How was he supposed to leave?]

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